


The Last Winter

by Tyooky



Category: The Riyria Revelations - Michael J. Sullivan
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence - Relationships and timeline, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Previously established emotional bond, Resolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 03:51:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16400825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyooky/pseuds/Tyooky
Summary: When Royce and Hadrian struggle with a mission that they initially expected to be an easy task, their working relationship as partners becomes increasingly strained. As winter approaches and the circumstances in the field grow dire, they must find a compromise between sustaining themselves, succeeding the mission and accepting its potential failure. At last it seems that Riyria, as it is, might not survive another winter..





	The Last Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Good day everyone,
> 
> this is my first ever trial in writing (and completing) a fanfiction story. It is also my first piece written in the english language, my native tongue being German. I remember writing a great deal of it after listening to the audiobooks of the Riyria Series, while until now, I haven't actually read or listened to all of the books. Still, I found the wonderful chemistry between the two protagonists too tempting to leave my own thoughts and ideas for them on the shelf. So I sincerely hope that you enjoy this work, even if the plot may be less interesting than perhaps the emotional part of it.

Thick Snowflakes had begun to fall, and white crystals covered the grass in the valley like an icy salt crust, emanating an eerie feeling of isolation accompanying the superficial beauty. Royce disliked the cold. If it would have been solely his choice, he would have woken in soft bed this morning, a vibrant fire burning in the hall of The Rose and the Thorn and the stomach full with fresh bread and roasted pigeon.

Instead, he woke inside the crown of an old tree, tightly wrapped in his cloak and blanket and tied to the very branch he was sitting on. His back hurt and the feeling in his feet had yet to return. He winced when a sharp branch pushed into his side, as he shifted into a slightly less uncomfortable position. It was still dark, but his eyes intuitively studied the environment around them. As it was though, the view was restricted by the dense brown leaves of the oak, that had until now stubbornly resisted winter's approach. It bothered him. He would take a look around by foot instead.

Royce glanced down and spotted Hadrian next to a particularly large and entangled root, that had been laid bare by the elements and probably some kind of animal. Hadrian had insisted on sleeping in that dirt hole rather than on the same or another tree, so at least one of them would be on the ground and ready to act in case of or something happened to their horses. Royce had called him an ignorant fool and had warned him that the creeping moisture gathering above the ground would make him regret that decision, but the warrior had refused all the same.

Royce was almost certain that he would happily follow his advice the next time they would camp in a pretty winter valley. Yet when he shot an assessing look down at Hadrian from his hideout, he couldn't even see a muscle twitch or shiver. The broad built warrior lay on his side, like Royce wrapped up in several layers of fabric. He had pulled up his knees to his stomach, his two swords resting not far from his hands, that were loosely clenched into fists.

The thick layer of grass and moss sprouting in the valley had provided a much better bedding than some rocky cliffs or root infested forests they've been to, but the night must have been freezing cold nonetheless. Royce shrugged at the thought. It wasn't his fault that Hadrian never listened to him. Indeed, lately he did have a tendency to ignore the smaller one's advice. Now that they were actually stuck on this damn mission that, once again, Hadrian had convinced him to accept because of some stupid benevolent reasons, he reconsidered having a serious word with him about their future as a working team.

But then again, he had tried so many times in the past to split up their unusual relationship for various reasons, yet he had failed to follow through with his own decision for just as many different reasons. It's not that he wasn't seriously angry with Hadrian, by Maribor. There had been quite some occasions where he had been more than tempted to slice that rambling throat of his and end the utter nonsense spilling out ever so often, once and for all.

But in just these moments, somehow - perhaps the gods were kind with Hadrian, or he was just a lucky bastard - he always managed to convince Royce that there was more to him than just a grown-up child trying to be the hero of the common folk. Whether he was saving their asses in a seemingly hopeless situation with the edge of a blade or using his damn intense charisma to convince the right people not to kill them. He just had this weird and annoying timing to snap back into reality and actually use the skills that were hidden behind the naive, good-for-nothing mask he was so fond of wearing.

Royce shook his head in silent disagreement, when he realized he was thinking about their past again. He had caught himself thinking about it all, their past, present and future, way too often lately. Trying to ignore these intrusions had, however, proved a difficult task. The thoughts just seemed to start pouring into his mind on their own, often so when Royce watched Hadrian while the warrior was occupied elsewhere, unaware of the pair of eyes laying upon him. He did not like these fragments of questions, this lingering uncertainty drifting around in his head. It distracted him from more important things. Right now, it distracted him from their mission.

With a practiced motion of his fingers, Royce quickly untied himself from the tree and unsheathed himself from the wrap that sat tight around his body. With an almost inaudible sound, his feet connected with the ground. Climbing was natural to him, along with many other useful, some would infer, suspicious skills. He squinted at the darkness and took in the surrounding hills once more. Nothing of interest there. Dawn was slowly approaching, but Hadrian would probably not wake up until after sunrise.

Although slowed by the cold grasp within his feet, Royce headed for the highest of the hills surrounding them. He didn't like crossing vast plains like this and would always avoid it if he could, but this time the enduring darkness was his protecting shield. He stopped on top of the hill and crouched down. The elevated position calmed him somewhat. Not that he expected someone to actually pass through these lands at this time of the year, especially not foreign soldiers or mercenaries of the church. The closest road was miles away into all directions, and there was only one lonely farmhouse about two riding hours to the north. They were literally in the middle of nowhere.

Royce snorted as he continued walking with more ease now. What seemed most ridiculous to him, was the reason why they were here at all. The mission they had accepted was neither lucrative nor particularly interesting, there was no challenge in it and nothing pointed to it being anything but a waste of their time and resources.

It was all about a simple wedding ring, that some stupid child of a foreign count had lost in these wastelands during play or whatever. Royce hadn't really paid attention when that noble brat had found them, after asking half the city of Medford to go on this mission for basically nothing but an empty promise.

_______________________________________

It had occurred on one more or less quiet evening at the Medford house. Royce and Hadrian were just celebrating the successful completion of their last job before the winter break with a good amount of beer and mead, when the unusually young client had confronted them in their den. She introduced herself as the daughter of a foreign high count of sorts and had dressed in tainted rags and way too large peasant clothes, that she had swapped with a commoner in the shady backstreets and alleyways, in exchange for her elaborate and rather expensive dress - and a hint as to where she would find the two persons that could - perhaps - help her with her enquiry.

For Hadrian, these efforts and the seemingly cute and equally devastated mask she had put on, paired with his half drunken mind and his stupid knightly attitude, was enough to blurt out a yes even before the girl had explained what it was all about.

Unfortunately for them, Royce too had already filled his stomach with a good and strong batch of fermented honey, and so his objections were simply turned down by the noisier Hadrian. It was an easy job anyway, he had said, it wouldn't take that long and they might get some interesting new business relationships out of it. Winter was coming anyway, and they would have enough time to go about their own personal leisure soon enough.

That's what he had made them believe, and Royce had simply swallowed it.

Today was the fourth day they've woken up freezing and miserable, clueless as to even the roughest whereabouts of their quest object. Hadrian had seriously tried to convince him that this was simply another little adventure to cool off after a busy season, and that Royce should finally start seeing the benefits of such undertakings rather than picking at the negative aspects most predominantly. But the facts were, that they've gotten nowhere after three days of moving about blindly and searching for something they didn't even know existed.

"You will know when you have found it", the girl had simply said in the distinguished sharp accent of a noble, that had completely contrasted her almost filthy appearance at that time. Royce had quietly observed the deliberately smudged dirt on her rosy cheeks and the ruffled hair, which was once carefully braided. If not for her accent betraying her, she might have actually achieved blending in with the people of the lower city. For a probably ten-year-old spoilt brat that was not the worst of strategies, he had to admit.

Hadrian must have thought something similar and had added this factor to his argument list favoring the credibility of the client, and thus pointing towards an increased probable profit they could gain from this job.

_______________________________________

Royce followed the tracks of some deer that had grazed the plains in this area not too long ago. The prospect of some fresh game sharpened his senses and made the grumbling noise in his stomach all the more agonizing. In anticipation of an easy and quick mission they had left splendidly ill-prepared, carrying food for only three days and not expecting such an early advance of winter. It was a most outrageous thing, a beginner's mistake even. They were _not_ beginners.

The more Royce tried to remember the exact circumstances under which they had accepted that night, the blurrier the vision of the meeting got. The young girls' words were resounding like a distant echo in his head, far away like the voice of another subconscious being. The only thing that had remained clear in his head was Hadrian. Or rather the physical gesture he had exchanged between them.

Royce frowned. He wasn't even sure if the memory was real, or if his perception had simply been altered by too much alcohol in his blood. Either way, he could still recall a feeling, a strange sensation, when his thoughts involuntarily drifted back to their discussion. Hadrian's convincing, warm hand resting on his thigh, hidden under the wooden table where their drinks had sat. It had not retreated until Royce had agreed to the job.

The swift shadow moved along, pausing every now and then to scan the environment. The early morning was quiet. No birds were chirping, no insects humming. The wind had seized. Royce arrived at the border of the forest, that painted a black silhouette before the slowly changing sky, where a dark violet foretold the beginning of a new day.

He had followed the deer tracks for half an hour, when he finally caught up with them. The animals had retreated into the dense undergrowth not far from a clearing, were a fallen tree had ripped the canopy open some time ago. There were three, all females. Royce noticed the swollen bellies at first glance, and where others might have assumed these animals were just well fed, he could tell that they were all carrying offspring. How curious, he thought. Winter had arrived early, and it seemed even the animals had adapted to the circumstances with an earlier rutting season.

His fingers felt the cold steel of his dagger, as he crouched down in close proximity to the small herd. He didn't have a bow on him, but his knife throwing skills weren't the worst either. If he could catch one of them near the heart...

Out of a sudden, there was a vaguely familiar voice in his head.

"Murderer", it hissed. "Heartless killer".

Royce shuddered. He had put up with a lot of insults and name callings in his time with Hadrian, and most often they conveyed nothing but the truth. But despite knowing about some of his dark past, Hadrian had never called Royce a murderer. He wouldn't, even if it was the undeniable truth.

There was something about Hadrian, maybe that childish naivety, that still believed in the better part of Royce. The hope that there was still something left in him, something not yet rotten and spoilt by his past wrongdoings. And there were times, when even Royce was tempted to believe that.

But, he then thought by himself in these rare moments, even if there was a spark of legitimacy in this faith - neither he nor anyone else would likely ever witness this last patch of good emerge from within the walls he had built up so carefully over decades, and that held an unwavering grasp of his very core. No one, not even Hadrian, would be able crush the bricks and flood the hallways filled with guilt and regret, unfulfilled hopes and desires, that even Royce himself did no longer know. It had simply been too long a life to wash it all away and not having stains remain all over.

He patiently observed the three animals as they lay down on the mossy ground in comfortable silence. The largest of them settled close to the other two and began grooming the short, brown fur on the other female’s neck. Their coats were not at their thickest density yet, but the bright patches around their tails were already piercing through the undergrowth, like snow glowing brightly under the light of the moon.

Royce’s hand still clasped around the whitesteel dagger, but his fingers had somehow loosened the grip. He suddenly had doubts of getting the throw just right. Sure, he had a somewhat infamous reputation for throwing death like others chipped pebbles over a water surface. But something held him back this time. Perhaps it was the strange voice in his head whispering an ugly truth to him, perhaps it was the lack of sleep.

He couldn't tell, and he didn't want to find out right now. With a single smooth move, his dagger slit back into its sheath, and Royce turned around, making sure not to disturb the resting herd any longer. Maybe, if he’d cross paths with the resident buck, he would get a second chance to resist the whispers.

_______________________________________

The first sunrays had just revealed the beauty of a winter wonderland, when Hadrian woke up to some strange noise. He tilted his head and flinched at the ache in his stiff neck. The sound appeared to originate from somewhere above his head, some sort of scratching he thought. It tickled his instincts. The right hand had reached for one of the swords on its own accord, fingers connecting with steel. He was wide awake in an instant, his heart picking up the pace, preparing for a surprise attack.

If it was a bloodhound of the church, the fanatics might not be far behind, probably still after their heads for their involvement in the escape of Esrahaddon from that pesky prison. Those freakish lunatics! Hadrian would slay them all if they'd dare to lay a finger on them again. He hoped that Royce would be far off by now on one of his morning patrols, so at least he could get out of here unharmed.

The scratching sound got louder, and deciding to go for the preventive strike, Hadrian jumped up from his root cave and stood in perfect defensive stance within a second.

If Riyria would fall at last, he would make sure this day was not to be forgotten anytime soon.

His agitated breath formed white clouds in the cold morning air, and for a moment his eyes wandered around, trying to uncover the cowardly ambush. Then, as time stood still for the brief part of a second, he lowered his gaze to meet the eyes of the culprit face to face. They were of a rusty brown, wide open in shock like someone who has been caught right in the act. As was the case.

Hadrian stared, and the creature stared back at him. None of them moved for the lasting moment of a breath. Then everything snapped back into place, and the fox turned on its heels and rushed off before Hadrian could even process what had happened. He had, however, spotted the small leather bag with dried meat between the thief's fangs - their last food resource. Or not. Hadrian started sprinting after the animal with a speed that seemed rather unnatural for someone who had just woken up.

"Halt, you bloody beast!", he shouted, sticking to the foxes tail just enough to keep up.

The animal was headed for the nearby forest, Hadrian was sure, but he knew at the same time that he didn't have the stamina right now to follow it for more than five minutes straight. An animal running for its life was a tough creature, and faster than any man.

Hadrian decided to change tactics when the fox led him into a deeper valley. He grabbed his sword with one hand while running, held up the other to stabilize the edge, and stopped abruptly, utilizing all the momentum he had to throw the sword forward in one fluid motion.

The throw was a good one. At least that was what Hadrian thought, before the blade crushed into the frosty soil just a thumbs length away from the thief's agile body.

A good shot, but a miss nonetheless.

The fluffy creature continued flying up the hillside like it was its daily routine, never looking back and now out of reach for the human warrior. Hadrian watched with remorse as it disappeared with their breakfast, leaving only a shallow trail in the frostbitten grass, that would soon be covered by fresh snow.

Panting and suddenly feeling both hot and cold at the same time, he walked up to his still flexing sword. The tip felt slightly dull when he ran a finger along the edge, but else it was fine. It needed sharpening anyway.

"Damn bloody fox", he muttered and grinded his teeth together in a manner of suppressed anger.

Swearing and fumbling with some laces on his undercoat, he glanced up the hill once more. When nothing further happened, he turned to head back to their base.

How would he explain to Royce that their entire leftover food had magically disappeared? He sighed, embarrassed by himself. Not at all, probably. Royce always saw right through Hadrian’s lies, and while they both had perfected the art of deception when it came to strangers, it was an altogether different challenge to fool the other.

Royce was not only gifted the ability to see in the dark, but also tended to read people like books. When Hadrian smiled to cover his anger, Royce knew. When he refused an offer although he was tempted, Royce knew.

Perhaps this was the reason why Royce had unexpectedly accepted the offer of this rather unusual mission. The urge to help this young lady, to spare her a raging blue-blooded father because she had carelessly lost her late mother's wedding ring on the way to Melengar, had been so persistent in Hadrian, that somehow, he had managed to convince Royce to follow him once again.

Sure enough, when the alluring sensation of alcohol had lifted the next day, Royce was all about cancelling their quest, even threatening once again to split up with Hadrian for good. They’ve had a hefty argument about the basic rules of their arrangements. How there always had to be time to properly prepare, how the wages were set and how payment was secured. And, how that night at the inn, they had followed none of these rules.

Indeed, a mere promise for compensation was all they had. Nothing in writing, no safety deposit. But they had both said yes and they'd shaken hands with the girl, which was a valid contract by all means from Hadrian's point of view.

They had continued discussing the benefits and risks until late. When Royce, frustrated and tired, had finally given his consent, after having been worked on a whole day by Hadrian, the warrior had almost been tempted to pull him into a grateful hug. Almost, because he knew he’d have a dagger stuck between his ribs before he would even reach the man.

Hadrian caught himself wearing a broad smile over the prospect, and had already pushed aside the fox incident. He arrived back at their small camp and crouched down to inspect the now lighter saddlebags. The dried meat was all gone, but at least the water pouches were untouched - albeit covered in fox slobber. He opened one pouch and threw his head back, swallowing hastily to wet his dry mouth. At least the little sprint had warmed him up a bit. He rubbed his forehead and just thought about the whereabouts of his fellow, when a deep, familiar voice found its way to his ears.

"Had enough beauty sleep, princess?", Royce asked, wearing his default neutral expression.

Hadrian turned around, surprised but glad to find himself in company again. He smiled and nodded his head.

"Ay. Time to continue searching that ring. Shouldn't be too far off now."

Royce didn't move a muscle in his face. Instead, his hands disappeared into his cloak, which could be a sign, or not.

"Had breakfast already?", he asked, eyes wandering around casually. Hadrian stiffened slightly, keeping his innocent smile subtle but present.

"Err, no. I’m not exactly hungry at the moment. I'd prefer to continue searching first, if you don't mind."

Royce raised an eyebrow. Definitely not a good sign.

"So, where have you been this morning?"

"Patrol", said Royce. Hadrian watched the white cloud forming from Royce's breath and shifted his legs.

"Anything unusual?"

"Saw some deer but couldn't get close enough. No people around it seems."

"That's reassuring."

"But one odd thing. There was a fox running past me like it was on fire, straight into the forest. Had some weird looking thing in his mouth, a piece of leather of sorts."

"How curious."

"Anyway", Royce huffed and walked up to Hadrian. "I'm hungry. I'll have breakfast first, if you don't mind." His hands reappeared from under the black cloak, slender fingers carefully wrapped around four oval, blueish sprinkled eggs. "Found these on the way. Should make a decent meal with the dried meat."

"Ah, yes. About that..."

**Author's Note:**

> Glad you made it through the first chapter, I hope it encouraged some of you to read the following ones as well.  
> Also, if you you are interested in or just like to look at traditional or digital art from time to time, I also have a deviant art gallery that I'd be happy to welcome new watchers to. Or, if you're a fan of Skyrim and you have found your way to this fanfiction, you might also enjoy my Skyrim - The Companions graphic novel project, also on deviantart or Smackjeeves. The links to both sites can be found on my profile page. Other than that, I very much appreciate every comment and kudos - thank you for reading!


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